


Before I Wake

by Arukou



Category: Rurouni Kenshin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Borderline Alcoholism, Depression, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-05
Updated: 2014-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-07 13:15:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1900287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arukou/pseuds/Arukou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The scars of war are never just skin deep, and they leave their marks on more than just the warriors. Modern AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Frayed Edges

_Disclaimer: Characters of Rurouni Kenshin are the property of Nobuhiro Watsuki and he is gracious enough to not slap me with a law suit when I use them. Story rated for future violence, gore, and adult situations._

* * *

 

Kenshin shifted in his seat anxiously, picking at his spotless uniform sleeve. He’d been fidgeting for the last hour, and every compulsive movement only served to make him more apprehensive. He adjusted the collar for the millionth time, feeling choked and claustrophobic. Giving up on his clothing, he stroked the frayed edges of his suitcase, worn nearly into ruin. Another thread unraveled under his fingertips.

Why was time moving so slowly? He’d been onboard for only six hours, but it felt like a lifetime had come and gone. At the same time, though, he dreaded the approaching destination with every fiber of his being. He was not ready for this reunion, had not been ready since the day he shut the door three years ago. Part of him wished time would hurry up, would somehow deposit him in his hometown in the blink of an eye. But the other part of him desperately wished for a freak blizzard, a tornado, anything to slow the train’s progress.

He scanned the few other late night passengers, blood pressure skyrocketing when he saw a man reach in his jacket. The man pulled out a stick of gum and Kenshin swallowed the lump in his throat. Not all of his old habits and fears had died yet. Even though he was now free to live a normal peaceful life, he couldn’t unlearn his training; anyone and everyone was a potential terrorist with explosives stowed and ready to use. He turned to his window and stared into the black night, the passing lights lonely sentinels along the train tracks.

 _I don’t want to see her. I just want to…_ see _her._ His mind turned inward, scenery fading away as he again saw that night an eternity ago when he’d walked out of her apartment. He watched himself leave over and over again, each time thinking of things he could have done to make the going easier on both of them, things he could have done to explain himself better.

Someone cleared her throat at him and he jumped in his seat, reaching for his hip without thinking, only to find nothing. He looked up into the isle, eyes flashing until he realized a matronly woman in a starched uniform and apron was staring down at him. She gave him a smile and patted his shoulder. “Home on shore leave, young man? You remind me of my grandson. He’s over there right now and we haven’t seen him for six months.”

Kenshin gulped, trying to get hold of himself. When he was finally sure of his voice, he answered, “No, ma’am. I was just discharged from my last tour. I’m going home for good.

Her eyes warmed, and he was afraid she would tear up, but she motioned to her trolley cart instead. “Would you like something to drink? On the house.”

Kenshin nodded hesitantly. “Ginger ale, please.” Maybe having something in his stomach would settle his nerves. The woman handed him a can of soda and continued on her way.

He popped the tab and flinched as he ripped it off. The slip of aluminum glinted in the florescent lighting, strangely surgical. Kenshin stuffed it in his pocket, trying to empty his mind. The soda went down slowly, blocked by the knot in his throat. It didn’t do anything at all to quell his butterflies.

 _This is a nightmare,_ he thought to himself, running a nervous hand through his red hair. He glanced up at the acid green clock numbers at the front of the car, feeling vaguely queasy. Their arrival time was scheduled for one o’clock. It was 12:38 AM, and he only had twenty-two more minutes to stew in his fear and anxiety.

He turned to the window again, watching his own reflection, pale and sickly-looking under the white lights. _She’s gonna take one look at me and know. There’s no way she can’t see._ The red lines of scar tissue were stark on his cheek. His eyes were dark and sunken, evidence of too many sleepless nights. He’d lost weight, too, on his desert diet of jerky and fruit leather. The uniform that had once fit him so well now hung loose at his waist, belt cinched to the tightest setting. _Maybe the packaging will scare her off. Maybe she’ll see the uniform and decide enough’s enough and just leave._

But he wanted to see her so badly his body physically ached. Kenshin couldn’t remember what her hair felt like in his fingers, the scent of her shampoo, the feel of her hand in his. The sparkle in her eyes was as distant in his memory as the twinkling stars in the sky. _I can’t remember my best friend anymore._ _I really have lost_ _everything._

He fingered the embossed letters on the suitcase, shuddering again as he pictured the second case hidden within the first—the one that held his shadows, his blood, and his nightmares. Those swords were the only friends he’d had for three years. _No. There was Souzo, too. Souzo was a friend. A dead friend._

The train whistle sounded and he jumped again, fingers scrabbling against the case. His fist clenched and unclenched, knuckles groaning under the strain. So close. Too close. And he still had no idea what to say, what to do. Panic closed in on him, his throat clenching shut. _Breathe, Himura! Breathe! Like the therapist taught you._ He could face combat and not even flinch, but to face her, his heart was thundering, his palms sweating.

The train was slowing, and other passengers were stirring. A few glanced in his direction. One man smiled encouragingly as if to say, _“Good luck, young man.”_ Kenshin swallowed convulsively, nearly coughing as bile rose in his throat. _If you can’t face her, you can’t face anyone,_ he told himself, rising and collecting his other bag. They shuddered to a stop, everyone lurching forward. Kenshin slipped into the aisle and hurried for the door. _Don’t freeze! Don’t do it. Don’t be a coward._

 _But I am a coward,_ another part of him whispered. Before he knew it, he stood at the ticket gate, a conductor giving him the stink-eye. He smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring manner while he fumbled in his pockets for the ticket. The conductor took the stub, his stern expression softening a hair as he motioned Kenshin through. _Now or never…_    Kenshin stepped through the gate.


	2. Do Not Go Gentle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, warnings apply.

Kaoru was the only one on the train platform as the clock struck one. She huddled in her coat as a steady, bitter wind rushed past her face. The lone attendant watched her warily, his expression sour. He hadn’t approached her so far, but she’d been waiting twenty minutes and she probably looked like a squatter. Who else would be in the train station at this God-forsaken hour?

Out of the darkness, she could just make out a bright headlight, steadily approaching. Again she wondered why he’d chosen train over plane. He could have been here in less than two hours if he’d just flown. But part of her wondered. Was he afraid of planes now? Did he associate them with war? With danger? He’d never said anything about it in his letters, but then, he never said much of anything in his letters.

She twisted her hands nervously, blowing warm air into them. She felt dizzy and alone. Taking a few steps forward, she nearly tripped, and she was sweating, even in the face of the chill wind. Backup might have made this easier, but that hadn’t been in the cards. Sano was working his nightclub job, terrifying kids with fake IDs and drunks who didn’t know when to stop. Megumi was out of town at a surgical conference. Misao and Aoshi were on a two week vacation in the Himalayas, climbing mountains and having an adventure. Yahiko was still in high school, and she wasn’t about to let him break curfew for this. _I guess it makes sense in a weird way. I was the only one he ever wrote to, anyway. Maybe he doesn’t want to see them._ She drew his last letter from her pocket, double-checking the time and place.

The train was getting closer now, slowing down. She could make out some details, only slightly inkier than the black night. The wheels clacked and the engine murmured like a hungry beast. As it pulled into the station, butterflies erupted in her stomach.

Three years of loneliness, of nightmares, of long nights full of fear, of news headlines about local dead boys, and it didn’t even come close to her terror right at this moment. She felt her gorge rising and grit her teeth. Memories flashed before her, that night he’d left so long ago. They pierced her like a knife in the gut.

* * *

 

  _She heard a gentle knock on her apartment door and smiled. Only one person would come_ _by this late, and she’d been wanting to see him. They’d both been busy lately, him w_ _ith work and her with job-hunting. She set aside her popcorn and rose to answer the door, nearly dancing across her kitchenette. “Hey, Kenshin,” she said as she undid the latch, grinning up at him. “Did you want to…” she stopped mid-sentence, taking in his grim expression. “Did something happen?”_

_“May I come in?”_

_She nodded, pulling open the security chain. He strode past her and straight to the couch, posture stiff and face shuttered. Kaoru read the signs carefully, noting the_ _sharp sheen of his eyes and the way his fists trembled on his knees. “Kenshin, what’s wrong?”_

_He looked at her, and she could see the visible effort he made to curb his anxiety, flattening his palms and relaxing his shoulders. He took a few deep breaths and looked up at her again. “I think you should sit.”_

_She nodded hesitantly and moved to the couch, sinking down opposite him. Kaoru could see he was collecting his thoughts, so she studied him patiently. Kenshin was a man who commanded attention, even though he was short and soft-spoken. His thin body belied his strength; she had seen him knock out guys nearly twice his size. Now he seemed to fill her living room with his presence, making her feel small and wary, like a cornered rabbit. He glanced at her, opening his mouth and then shutting it again with a frown. “You’re going to hate me,” he murmured, and she wasn’t sure if he meant for her to hear or not._

_“What’s wrong, Kenshin?” she asked again, scooting closer. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”_

_His expression darkened. “Don’t be so sure. You’re not going to like what I have to say.”_

_“Kenshin, it can’t be any worse than the time you had to tell me it was you who vomited all over my bathroom and not Sano.”_

_His face twisted, caught between a smile and grimace. He sucked in a deep breath and exhaled. “I enlisted.”_

_Kaoru’s grin froze on her face, her brain not comprehending. The words made sense individually, but in a sentence, coming from Kenshin, they lost all meaning._

_“Wha…what?” she whispered, sure she had misheard._

_“I enlisted. Two weeks ago.”_

_Same words. She hadn’t misheard. They saturated her brain,_ _blocking out everything else. “YOU WHAT?”_

_Kenshin flinched as she shouted, looking away. His shoulders hunched in as he quietly said_ _, “Kaoru, the neighbors.”_

_“Fuck the neighbors! What are you saying?”_

_“I’m saying that I’m leaving. Tomorrow. Well, today, technically.”_

_Kaoru lost all sensation, her hands falling limp to her sides. “Leaving?”_

_He nodded, meeting her eyes. Her skin chilled._ Am I looking at the face of a dead man? _she wondered, seeing as though for the first time, how very human Kenshin was. For all his strength, how very breakable he was._

_“Kenshin, how could you?” she whispered, caught between rage and terror. Her friend, her best friend, turned to her and took up her hands, rubbing them gently between his._

_“Kaoru, this is important to me. I know you don’t approve of the war, and you know I don’t either, but innocent people are dying. There was this lecture…I can’t…I can’t explain it. I’ve been given this great gift, this athletic gift and this talent for fighting, and I’m not using it to protect people. Maybe I don’t approve of the war, but haven’t I been complicit in it by not acting? Maybe the answer isn’t to just complain about it from this side, but to go_ _over and fight it there.”_

_She gulped air for a moment, looking into his eyes and trying to_ _understand._

_“Kenshin, what do you think you’re going to do? Go over and convince every general to pull out? Convince all the soldiers that they should disobey orders and head home? And have you even thought about the political ramifications? You’re not going to be a king or a queen on this chessboard; you’re going to be a pawn. What difference can you possibly make?”_

_“Maybe I can’t change the government, Kaoru,” he said, gripping her hands more tightly, willing her to understand, “but I can make little differences. I can save a child, or stop a terrorist, or protect a family. Maybe I won’t change the world for America, but if I can change the world for even one person, isn’t that enough?”_

_She stared disbelieving. “Kenshin, you can’t save everybody. There’s just no way…You’re only one man.”_

_“I’m one man, yes, but the President is only one man. Winston Churchill was only one man. One man can make a difference, Kaoru. Isn’t that_ _one of the founding ideas of our country?”_

_“Yes, but why does this have to be your way_ _of changing the world?”_

_“Because it’s what I’m good at. It’s what I can do.”_

_Kaoru was growing more hysterical as she grasped for arguments. She could feel tears tightening her throat_ _, and she was not going to give up without a fight. “Kenshin, you’re good at a lot of things that could change the world. Debate, research, teaching. Why is_ this _the road for you?”_

_“Because…” he faltered for a moment, “because this is what I can do right now, right at this moment.”_

_She looked into his gaze, hard as steel, and lost her grip on logic. “You…you might die.” She choked on the word._

_“I know,” he whispered, reach_ _ing up to touch her cheek. She hadn’t realized she was crying until his thumb smeared a tear. He shifted and knelt in front of her, keeping his_ _other hand on her wrist._

_“Please don’t go,” she begged, trying not to sob, not to lose her grip._

_“Kaoru, the paperwork is signed. There’s no turning back,” he said gently, his thumb rubbing back and forth across her cheekbone. “My flight’s in three hours. I just wanted you to understand why I’m leaving. I told Hiko, but I wanted you to hear from me. I wanted to try and explain.”_

_Her grip on her emotions shattered and she collapsed into him, her arms going around his neck. Her best friend, her oldest friend, the man she loved more than anyone else on the planet, and he was leaving them…leaving her. To fight. Maybe to die._

_“Please forgive me,” he said quietly. He hugged her tightly, smoothing her hair as tears slid down her cheeks. Kenshin turned his face toward her_ _, pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, tightening his arms one last time. Then he stood and left, only pausing to whisper, “Goodbye, Kaoru.”_

_She barely heard him, but the words_ _shattered her glass. She slumped to the ground, sobbing and wheezing, airways choking around her grief. “Kenshin” Over and over again she gasped his name until, exhausted, she finally passed into fitful sleep._

* * *

 

It had taken two weeks before her friends could even coax her out of her apartment. Megumi had nearly had to slap her out of it. It had taken another two months before she could do anything more than what was necessary to her survival. It had taken a full year before she was willing to go out with her friends again, and even then she would only sit in a booth, refusing all requests to dance.

For three years, Kaoru tortured herself; though her daily life eventually marched forward, he was still the first thing she thought of when she woke up and the last thing she thought about before she went to sleep. Even her dreams were devoted to him. Casualties in the news took on a new and horrible twist, and she envisioned him in each death she read about, nightmares plaguing her sleep.

She was so used to seeing him die that she almost didn’t know what to think of seeing him alive. And the torment didn’t stop with imagined physical harm. She agonized over his psychological state. Would he be the same man? _Impossible_. Would he still care about her? _Who knows?_ Would he be an alcoholic? Suicidal? Worst of all, would he be a monster, permanently transformed by killing? Would he want to return to the battlefield? Every single scenario struck her with new shades of horror.

Kaoru inhaled sharply as the train came to a full stop. Her nausea worsened as she looked at the steely cars, the doors hissing open ominously. A few lonely people straggled out, looking disheveled and tired as they shuffled through the ticket gate. They glanced at her before hurrying away. Where was he?

She heard the last call echo down from the conductor’s carriage before the doors shut and the train slid away from the tracks. Kaoru held her breath.

And then he rounded the corner, handing over his ticket and passing through the gate like a specter. _Kenshin_.

Kaoru froze, fight or flight taking over where higher faculties failed her. _Move!_ her brain screamed at her muscles, but they were not listening. He looked around the station, and she felt his gaze like an electric current. It gave her the jolt she needed and she stumbled forward.

Two legs, two arms, all limbs apparently intact. Parts of him were achingly familiar: his long red hair, his slender fingers, his calloused palms. But she felt like she was looking at another person wearing Kenshin’s skin. The navy blue uniform contrasted with his sun-beaten skin, and he was gaunt, veiled with shadow. His face was sunken and his eyelids were purple with weariness. A scar crossed his cheek, the sharp slash of red belying its freshness. His eyes, though, his eyes caught her like a snare.

Kenshin had always been a carefully controlled man, but now, his gaze was like ice. Shuttered with steel, she felt none of his usual warmth, none of his empathy and kindness. Her Kenshin, the man who gave her books and watched movies with her and laughed with her, was frozen in a glacier. As she met his gaze, she felt like she’d been punched in the gut; his eyes lit with recognition, but he looked at her like she was a firing squad.

The redhead lifted his two bags and stepped toward her, his gait stiff and hesitant. Her knees buckled, and she realized there was no way she could walk out to meet him; she was nearly ready to collapse. He stopped in front of her, within arm’s reach, but she felt like he was on another planet. _Say something, Kaoru!_ she screamed at herself.

“You…you didn’t cut your hair,” she murmured, grasping for neutral conversation topic.

He shifted, as though he’d been expecting something different, and reached up to touch his bangs.

“Yeah,” he said, “I had a…a special situation.”

Something inside her cracked and she felt tears on her cheek. He looked at her, and a layer of ice melted away, his eyes warming. Kenshin reached across the chasm between him and touched her face, his thumb wiping her cheek the same way he had the night he’d left and Kaoru’s strength left her, trembling as her joints unlocked. “Kenshin,” she gasped, throwing herself into his arms. “Kenshin.” She hiccupped into his shoulder and cried. “I missed you.”

For his part, all of his carefully planned scenarios, his speeches, his apologies, everything flew out of his mind like a flock of birds. He wrapped his free arm around her waist and held her close. “I missed you, too,” he said. Kenshin could feel tears on his cheeks and he didn’t try to stop them. She was here, with him again. The scent of her shampoo filled his nose, the sound of her voice flooded his mind.

 _She doesn’t hate me_ , one part of him observed with some sense of bitter humor. _If she hated me, she wouldn’t have missed me. Right?_ He dropped his bags and brought his other arm up around her shoulders, slipping his fingers into her hair. _Like satin_ , he thought, committing it to memory. _Her hair feels like satin. And she smells like orange blossoms._

Kaoru was sobbing and hiccupping now and he felt her knees buckle. He wanted to say something, anything, but before he had a chance, he felt her hands against his chest. She pushed him away and one hand pressed to her mouth. “Kaoru?” he whispered, wondering if maybe he’d made the wrong assumption. Her skin was pale, and she was sweating, her other hand clutching her stomach. Quite suddenly she turned heel and ran, disappearing into the ladies’ room.

Kenshin stood stock still, unsure what to think. Was she ill? He was startled by the ticket master, who tapped him on the shoulder unceremoniously. Kenshin looked at the stern-faced man, hurriedly wiping the tears from his face.

“Your girlfriend ok?”

“I’m…She’s not…” The redhead tried to regain some footing, anything to make this less horrible.

“No one’s around. You can go in and check on her.” The gentleman gave him a pat on the shoulder before returning to the ticket gate.

Taking a deep breath, Kenshin fumbled to pick up his bags, and then walked toward the swinging door, his stomach roiling. As he entered the bathroom, he was hit by the overwhelming stench of old urine and the sound of violent heaving. He rushed to her side, placing gentle hands on her back to steady her and keep her hair from her face. When she was done, she slumped against the toilet seat, coughing and crying all at once. Kenshin rubbed her back until she calmed a little, and then searched through his bag for a water bottle. She took it listlessly and swallowed a bit of water, her eyes shut in a grimace.

When she gave him back the bottle, he pressed his hand to her forehead. “You’re running a fever,” he said, worried and agitated.

“This…isn’t exactly how I planned it,” she said, coughing out a hoarse laugh and looking up at him with red, puffy eyes.

“Me, neither,” he told her, gently resting a hand on her shoulder. “Let’s get you to your apartment. You got a new place, right? I’ll drive and you can direct me.”

She nearly started crying again. Maybe he looked different, maybe he was different, but he was still Kenshin. The redhead helped her up, leading her from the bathroom. She tucked herself into the warmth of his body, shivering against the autumn wind. Her car was the last one in the lot and she surrendered the keys to Kenshin, crawling into the front seat where he tucked his coat around her. The ride home was silent, save for her whispered directions.

* * *

Kenshin couldn’t keep his eyes from Kaoru. She was sweating with fever and her face was pale as milk under the harsh stairwell lighting. They stumbled up to the second floor, him supporting most of her flagging weight; she’d never looked more beautiful to him.

But as he helped her take her coat off, he realized that it was two sizes too big for her, and he could feel her shoulder blades through her thin T-shirt. “Kaoru,” he said, running his fingers down the bones of her spine, “have you been eating properly?”

She blushed through the pallor, snorting as she pushed away from him. “Not you, too. Megumi’s always at me about it.”

Kenshin frowned, prepared to pursue the subject, but she turned on him abruptly, a false smile stretching awkwardly across her face. “I…I have Chinese if you’re hungry,” she said, voice quavering slightly.

“I’m not,” he replied, watching her fever bright eyes. “Let’s get you to bed.”

Kaoru nodded weakly, as he gently pushed her toward her bedroom. “I’ve got the guest room set up,” she mumbled, gesturing to a door on the right-hand side of the hallway.

Ignoring that room for the moment, Kenshin focused on getting her to her room. “I can’t believe you came to pick me up while you were sick.”

“I didn’t realize I was sick. I thought it was nerves.”

He wanted to ask her what exactly would make her so nervous, but didn’t, because he didn’t think he wanted to know the answer.

“No one else was free, anyway,” she continued, fumbling with the doorknob. “They’re all out of town except Sano, and he’s working.”

Kenshin felt a strange wave of relief. _I thought they were avoiding me, that they didn’t want to see me._

Kaoru shuffled into her room ahead of him, and he hesitated in the door jamb, afraid to follow her into her domain. _Just go to bed before you get yourself in trouble, Casanova_. He saw her trip, though, and that made the decision for him.

He sprinted the short distance between them and caught her shoulders, steering her onto the bed.

“Sorry about all this,” she said, weakly gesturing at herself. “I have…really great timing.”

“I’ll get you some medicine. It’s all in the bathroom, right?”

“Don’t bother. Could you just get me some water?” He nodded and disappeared into the darkness, returning a moment later with a glass and a plastic bowl.

“In case you get sick again,” he said sheepishly. “Better than having to run to the toilet.”

Kenshin set the glass on her nightstand and knelt at the side of the bed. Kaoru smiled at him groggily. “I’m glad you’re home,” she said, taking up his hand and squeezing. “I missed you.”

He hesitated a moment before replying, “I missed you, too.”

“You can stay as long as you need. I know Hiko doesn’t exactly…He doesn’t…”

“If I showed up on the doorstep, he’d remove a limb.”

“Yeah,” Kaoru said, giving a half-hearted giggle. “That.”

He watched her drift off to sleep, her grip on his hand like a vice. Once she was completely out, he rose from his kneeling position and sat on the edge of the mattress, gazing down at her. _Go to bed,_ he ordered himself. _You’re going to scare the shit out of her if she wakes up and finds you like this. You look like a stalker._ But he couldn’t seem to make his legs obey. Instead, he found himself reaching out, smoothing her bangs away from her sweaty skin. She shifted under his touch, grumbling and turning onto her side. Kenshin glanced at the clock on the night stand and discovered that it was well past three in the morning. _Sleep,_ he urged himself, finally rising. Without even thinking, he bent and kissed her forehead, only after realizing that he might have just done something stupid.

Backing away, he turned toward the door but couldn’t resist one last look. She lay in the comforters, dwarfed by their fluffy mass. His oasis. “Goodnight, Kaoru,” he whispered, and then bolted to the safety of the guest room.


	3. Darkness Like a Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Usual warnings apply. This chapter contains violence, gore, language, and panic attack.

Kaoru woke slowly the next morning.  Sunlightmercilessly shining through her eyelids;her mouth tasted like the bottom of a dumpster. Almost immediately she leaned over the edge of the bed and emptied the last of her stomach into the plastic bowl.  Groaning, she buried her face in her pillow.  “No work today. Definitely not happening.”

She nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard a soft knock at her door. The hinges squealed as Kenshin opened it just a crack and softly called,“Kaoru, are you up?” 

“Yeah,” she responded from the pillow.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I called the school and told them you were ill. You have the day off.”

Hazarding a peek at the alarm clock, Kaoru realized she’d slept well past ten o’clock. “That’s fine, Kenshin. Thanks for letting me sleep in.”

“I’ll make some oatmeal, if you’re up to it.”

“I…I’m not sure. I just puked again.”

From the corner of her eye, she could see his socks as he moved to stand next to her bed.

“Did you at least drink any water?”

“…No,” she said, petulance creeping into her voice.

“Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

She had to get up in stages, first rising slowly to her elbows, then sitting fully, and then swinging one leg at a time over the edge of her bed.  Her nose wrinkled distastefully as she realized that she’d fallen asleep in her clothes.  She stood too quickly and the room spun around her like a wild top.  Kenshin was there as she stumbled, catching her elbow and steadying her.

“I’m going to put on my pajamas and then I’ll be out,” she told him, shuffling toward her closet like a zombie.

“Ok,” he said, watching her carefully. “I’ll just…empty this.” Kenshin picked up the bowl and disappeared into the hallway, closing the door behind him.

Kaoru dressed in a pair of pajama pants, fluffy socks and an oversized T-shirt, completing the ensemble with her electric blue robe, courtesy Misao.  She was shaking with chills, even though she could feel sweat running in rivulets down her temples and back, but at last she managed to stumble her way down the hall and into the kitchen.

Kenshin sat at the table, the morning paper spread out before him. He didn’t even pretend he’d been reading it, eyes fixed on the hallway when she finally emerged. “I was about to send in the search and rescue.”

“No need. I’m just woozy, is all.”

“Let me get some oatmeal, just in case you change your mind,” he said, rising and moving effortlessly around the kitchen. Kaoru slumped into a chair, content to close her eyes against the headache. The sound of Kenshin puttering was like clockwork, a precise rhythm of opening and closing, mixing and shaking. He’d always been comfortable cooking, and she sighed with envy.

“You’re still Little Miss Suzy Homemaker?”

He guffawed, but didn’t stop. “It’s a survival skill. I looked in your pantry. Don’t even get me started on your diet.”

She knew better than that, so she shut up and let him work, nodding into a doze. She woke at the clink of porcelain against the table top and opened her eyes, briefly wondering if she might not be dreaming. He’d managed to make something as unappetizing as oatmeal look absolutely delicious. What was normally just brown mush, was…still brown mush, but a swirl of milk ( _But that expired last week._ ), a sprinkling of cinnamon, and a garnish of a strawberry ( _I thought the strawberries_ _went bad._ ) made it look positively inviting. The fact that he had made it specifically for her helped, too.

But the thought of eating it immediately sent her stomach roiling. Shaking her head she stared forlornly at the bowl, half-heartedly stirring it with the spoon. Finally she pushed it away, sighing and looking at Kenshin slantwise. He was watching her with disappointment in his eyes, and she immediately ducked her head in embarrassment. He slowly reached across the tiny table and pushed the bowl back toward her. “Please try, Kaoru,” he said almost in a whisper, “try just a little.  For me?”

_He had to go and say that,_ she thought rebelliously, even as she lifted the spoon.  _Stupid friends who disappear for three years and still somehow have the ability to guilt you because you’re in love with them and you were terrified they’d die and…_ She cut off her own line of thought and gummed at the first bite of oatmeal. She couldn’t taste a thing, but she tried to give Kenshin a smile of appreciation nonetheless.

He watched her openly, waiting for any signals that breakfast was not agreeing with her.  Her face was still drawn, all dark circles and pallid skin, save for where the fever burned hottest.  Disheveled was a kind description for her hair, given that she had only managed to sweep half of it back.  Her bathrobe practically swamped her, and all in all she looked absolutely miserable.  And absolutely beautiful.As she ate, he fought a silent battle with himself, stomping down on desires to reach out and touch her, soothe the aches away, take care of her.  It wasn’t his place, not after three years of cold letters and unspoken worries and fears.

She managed eight tiny bites of her oatmeal before her gorge rose and she was forced to stop. Closing her eyes against a wave of nausea, she leaned back in the chair. Kenshin shifted slightly, and she could almost hear his indecision, his hesitancy.  Gulping, she opened her eyes and reached for some water.   He looked relieved, but she noticed he had her puke bowl in hand.  Following her gaze, he flushed. “Just in case,” he mumbled, hastily setting it on the table.

Wrinkling her nose, Kaoru pushed away the rest of the oatmeal. He cleared the table with worried eyes, stepping lightly and hesitantly, as though his very presence might cause her to vomit at any moment.   _He’s only trying to help_ , she told herself, reaching up to rub her aching head.  “Thanks.”  From the corner of her eye, she could just see him covering the oatmeal with plastic wrap and sticking it in the fridge. He glanced her way, and the flick of his hair drew her eye like tinsel draws a magpie. He hadn’t tied it up, and it spilled over his shoulders like liquid fire. _If I have to be pukey today, at least the view’s nice._

Kenshin washed the dishes and cleaned the table with precise, business-like movements, but his real attention was on her.She was swaying in her chair and her eyes were unfocused. At last, he couldn’t hold himself back and pressed his hand to her forehead. Hot, but also clammy and sticky with last night’s sweat.  “You’ll feel ten times better after a bath,” he told her softly.  Kaoru, blinked at him a moment, rose, and trundled off to the bathroom, robe trailing behind her like a forlorn tail. Kenshin stood at the end of the hallway, tracking her progress, worry gnawing at his stomach.

Just before locking herself in, she turned back to him.  “Sano said that he might drop by sometime today.  Probably right before lunch, stupid freeloader.  Just wanted to warn you.”

He was caught halfway between laughter and worry, the corner of his mouth rising just a touch. _It’s good to be home. Even if I am playing nurse to a grumpy, grizzly bear. It…it’s certainly better than the alternative._   Flashes of blood, screams. Kenshin shook his head. _Do something useful, Himura. Maybe Kaoru’s got some laundry that needs doing. Or some shelves that need dusting. Or something._

* * *

The doorbell range at exactly 12:00, just as Kenshin was considering what to do about lunch.  His patient was back in bed, hopefully sound asleep. She hadn’t thrown up breakfast.  Yet.  Smiling, Kenshin walked to the intercom, briefly fumbling with unfamiliar buttons before answering. “Can I help you?”

“Damnit Jou-chan, I told you…wait a sec. Kenshin?”

“Kaoru’s sleeping, Sano. Try and keep it down, ok?”

“Let me up, damnit!”

Kenshin hit the entrance button, his nerves ever-so-slightly calmed by Sano’s familiar profanity. Cliché as it was, some things never really did change.  And then Sano was knocking at the entrance.  Kenshin opened the door smiling, and was rather surprised to meet a fist rather than face. He went down hard, but not before his hand snapped out, taking Sano with him.Fire roared in his ears, and he reached for a weapon, something, anything. _No, no. Not here. It’s Sano, you idiot, Sano!_ He screamed in some distant corner of his mind, but his body moved on autopilot long enough to get the taller man in a chokehold.

Kenshin released his grip as quickly as he’d taken it, scooting away from Sano into a corner of the entryway. _Breathe, breathe,_ he commanded himself, trying to control his heart rate, his lungs. Everything was running on adrenaline and his ears were still roaring with fire.

Sano, still sprawled out on his stomach, looked at the redhead with wide eyes, one hand cradling his throat. “I…”

With a shuddering breath, Kenshin interrupted. “I’m so sorry, Sano. I didn’t…I just wasn’t…I’m so sorry.”

The younger man remained on the floor a moment longer before rising to his knees. “No. That was probably stupid of me. I should know better than to try and get the jump on you.” He sat back against the wall, his knees up and his posture nonchalant. Kenshin remained curled in a ball, nails digging into his fists, breathing rapid and shallow. Sano took in the sight, the drawn features, the scar, the panic, and exhaled slowly. “You have to admit, you deserved it.”

The redhead glanced sideways, eyes bright and wary. It took a moment for the words to process, but when they did, he sputtered and then laughed. “I suppose, I did,” he murmured, closing his eyes and clutching his forehead, fingers tangled in his bangs.

“It was for leaving with no goodbye.”

Kenshin shuddered as though he’d been struck again, before slowly rising. He dusted off his pants and retreated to the kitchen, Sano trailing behind him. “You should let me punch you one more time. I owe you two and I only got one of ‘em in.” The older man fixed narrowed eyes on him before bowing his head slightly.

“Ok. I won’t stop you.”

Sano frowned, absolutely mystified. Old Kenshin wouldn’t have taken this shit. Old Kenshin would tell him to go to hell and then laughingly correct his stance, showing him better ways to shift his weight. But then, Old Kenshin probably also wouldn’t have gone to war. Except that he had. It had been Old Kenshin who signed the papers.

Sighing, the taller man looked away. “I owe you another one, but I won’t. I’ll just tell you you better make this up to Jou-chan. You have no idea what she went through. It was bad for all of us, but for her…You just better make it up to her.”

Kenshin flinched as though he’d taken the hit anyway, and hastily turned away, busying his hands with the pantry.  “So,” Sano said, settling in a chair, “what’s for lunch?”

Frowning at sparse cupboard contents and unhealthy amounts of dust, Kenshin softly replied, “Tomato soup.”

“That’s it?” The redhead threw a glare toward the table, pulling out a can of Campbell’s and beginning the search for a can opener.

“You should be glad you’re getting anything. Kaoru’s sick, so only light food.”

The taller man frowned, leaning back. “When’d she get sick?”

“Last night, when she picked me up at the station. She was running a fever and she vomited just after I got there.”

“Shit,” Sano said, rubbing a hand through his hair. “She should’ve called me. I coulda gotten off work to pick you up.”

“You know she hates doing things like that. She’s always worried she’s going to be bothering someone.”

“Yeah,” he murmured, glancing down the hallway to the bedroom. “She does do that.” He turned his gaze back on Kenshin. “She’s not the only one, you know.”

The shorter man stiffened, but continued without comment.  For a moment he putzed at the stove, starting up the gas and mixing the soup, and then he turned to the younger man.

“How have you been, Sano?”

“Oh, you know. A little of this, a little of that. I keep myself busy, and Megumi keeps me honest.”

“Kaoru mentioned you two started dating.”

“Yeah,” the taller man said with a blush. “I finally said yes when she asked me on a date.”

“You mean she finally deigned to say yes, right? Somehow I think you were the one begging for a date.”

“Now where’d you get that idea? She was totally chasing after _me_.”

“Not according to Kaoru.”

“Well, Kaoru’s on Megumi’s side. You can’t trust anything you heard about us.”

“Uh-huh.” The tension was slowly draining from Kenshin’s shoulders, and he was beginning to think that maybe they could get over this. _Maybe I didn’t completely burn all my bridges. This almost feels like how we used to talk together. Like maybe we’re still friends._ But then Sano, in classic tactless style, changed the tone of the conversation.

“What about you, Kenshin? How are you?” And his voice was not one of disdain or one of hatred. It was one of concern. The redhead clenched the spoon, head and shoulders bowing a little.

“I’m fine, Sano,” he finally mumbled. “I’m…It’s nice to be home. I’m fine.” As though repeating it would make it true. He felt his friend lean forward, felt the skepticism.

“Bullshit, Kenshin. Don’t feed me that bullshit. I was there, in the entryway just five minutes ago. You know? You’re definitely not fine.”

The redhead turned to reply, but his voice caught in his throat. Kaoru stood in the hallway, wrapped in her comforter. She glanced between them, and he wondered how much she had heard, how much she knew. But she took pity on him and rounded on Sano instead.

“Some people are trying to sleep, you know. Next time keep your voice down.”

Sano quailed under her wrath, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. “I’m sorry, Jou-chan, I just…you know? I can’t help myself.”

Kaoru growled audibly before shuffling into the kitchen, like some sort of dragon woken from a deep sleep.  Kenshin had to repress a sudden urge to laugh, and turned back to the soup.  He busied himself looking for herbs in her cupboards, determined to at least improve a little on the usual recipe.

“So Jou-chan, why the hell didn’t you call me? I coulda gotten him, you know. I can actually take time off work.”

Kaoru mumbled under her breath, but offered no real explanation. Instead, she tapped her fingers together, pouting a little at his criticism.

“Man, your timing sucks, too,” Sano barreled on, drawing a toothpick from his pocket.  “I wanted to take you guys out tonight to celebrate.”

“Celebrate what, exactly?” Kaoru grumbled, pulling her blanket around her shoulders.

“Kenshin’s return, of course.”

Kaoru fixed Sano with stink eye, her brows raised and her nose wrinkled. “Maybe you should ask Kenshin if he actually wants to celebrate instead of just deciding all on your own. Besides, knowing you, we’ll be the ones paying for all the drinks.”

“Ah well,” said Sano, leaning back dangerously in his chair.  “Since we have to wait a couple of days, that means that Fox and Weasel and Aoshi will probably be back by the time we go out.”

Kenshin divided the soup into three bowls, sprinkling it with Kaoru’s incredibly old, never-been-opened basil.  _Better than nothing_ , he told himself. He set the dishes on the table, where Sano quickly tucked in and Kaoru took tiny sips. Kenshin watched her carefully as he sipped his own soup, gauging her fever bright eyes. She looked a bit better than she had a few hours ago.

“Are you up for toast, Kaoru?  Or do you think that will be too much?”

Her brow wrinkled. “Let’s just stick to the soup.”

“What if I want toast?” Sano interjected, giving his best puppy-dog eyes.

Kenshin raised a brow, eying the already empty bowl. “If I make you toast, you’ll finish off the whole loaf.”

“…your point being?”

Sighing, the older man shook his head and shared an exasperated glance with Kaoru. “Get your own bread and make your own toast,” she helpfully supplied.

Sano met them both glare for glare before pouting and turning up his nose. “Fine then. I’ll just starve.”

“Go ahead and do that,” Kaoru groused. The taller man maintained his aloof stance for a moment longer before grinning, leaning forward to settle on his elbows.

“Man, I’ve missed this. But I gotta go. Things to see, people to do.”

Kenshin sputtered in his soup as Kaoru glared across the way.  “Fine. Go. Not like you were gonna help with the dishes anyway.” Grinning, Sano rose and made his exit, whistling a jaunty tune. When the door had shut, Kenshin looked back at his patient. She was poking forlornly at the soup, but she’d managed to down half of it.

“You sure you don’t want toast?” She glanced up at him, her eyes considering, but she shook her head.

“I’ll just play it safe.”

“Can you finish the soup?”

Kaoru flushed. “I don’t think so.”

“That’s ok. I’ll just put it away for later. You can have oatmeal and tomato soup for dinner.”

She stuck her tongue out at the suggestion as he gathered the dishes. He washed them quickly, hyper-aware of her eyes along his back. “Do you want to watch a movie?” she asked quietly, her voice heavy with fatigue.

He glanced at her, and nodded. “Sure you can stay awake through it, Sleeping Beauty?”

“No. But we have to get you caught up on three years of pop culture. You’re woefully behind.”

“Kaoru, I was never much of one for pop culture.”

“Well, there’s a first time for everything.”

He hastily dried the last of the dishes and put them away, turning to face her. Something about her gaze cut him to the quick, and he briefly considered pleading jetlag. Trainlag. Whatever one got when traveling too long in a confined space. But she’d asked.

Smiling, he offered her a hand up.  She took it and leaned heavily against him as they walked into the living room.  Kaoru sat on the couch as Kenshin drew the blinds, scrounged a spare blanket from the linen closet, and started up the TV and DVD player, briefly fumbling at remotes with too many buttons.  “What would you like to watch?” he asked, turning to her with a weak smile. She looked ready to nod off at any second.

“Have you seen any of the _Lord of the Rings_ movies?” Kaoru asked, gesturing towards several boxes on her bookshelf.  Kenshin shook his head.  “Then let’s watch _Fellowship of the Ring_.  I’ve got the extended version.”

He found the DVD with little difficulty and wondered what he was getting himself into when he saw that it was two discs long.  Popping the movie in, he sat next to Kaoru, drawing up his legs and hunching into the cushions. _This is not a good idea._   Kaoru, heavy with fatigue, leaned into him, her head resting on his shoulder. “Sorry,” she murmured, “Is this uncomfortable?” Kenshin cringed. _It’s too comfortable. Too tempting._ “I’m fine. Let me just…I think my arm will fall asleep.” She leaned forward and he placed his arm behind her, flushing at the intimacy, the implication. _Get a grip, Himura! We used to sit like this all the time. …Before puberty anyway._  

Kaoru was apparently oblivious to his discomfort, or at least too tired to notice. She snuggled into the hollow of his arm, pulling the blanket up to her chin.  He pulled her closer reflexively, curling his hand around her shoulder. _She’s sick. Make her comfortable. Let her sleep. Yeah. That’s exactly what I’m doing. Definitely not thinking about things couples do. Definitely not thinking about kissing and hugging and…_ Shaking his head, he concentrated on the movie and watched as the Last Alliance made a desperate attempt to overthrow Sauron.

“Kenshin?”

“Mm?”

“Are you glad to be home?”

_Where did that come from?_ he wondered, looking down at her inky black hair. Her eyes were closed, but he could hear trepidation in her voice.

“I’m very glad, Kaoru.”

Nodding, her head tilted forward and to the side, and Kenshin settled into the cushions, trying to ignore how right this all felt.

* * *

He opened his eyes hesitantly, cold shock running down his spine when he found himself surrounded by desert.  The sun beat down on his back and he felt sweat on his brow. Dust coated his tongue and he hurriedly pulled up his scarf, drew down his _shora_ , and hid his hair as best he could. His swords hung at his side, safely hidden under his coat. The sand was dragging at his feet, sucking and gripping in an inevitable, exhausting pull, so be began moving, scanning the blinding landscape for a sign, a building, shelter.

_The mission,_ he thought hazily. _What’s the mission?_

There was a hut in front of him, and recognition buzzed through Kenshin’s brain like an electric current. _No! Not there! Not again!_ He tried to turn, to run, to throw his swords to the ground, but his body was no longer his own. He watched, prisoner to his own mind, as the hut drew nearer and nearer. _Don’t watch!_ he thought to himself, trying to turn his head, close his eyes, anything. His treacherous body refused every command. The door threw itself open and Kenshin slid inside like a phantom.

There was a man and his wife, just settled down to the noon meal. The scent of naan and lamb filled the air, and the redhead could feel his mouth watering. Warm blood splashed across the table, and the man was on the floor, coughing and gurgling as he choked on the red flood. Kenshin felt the blade in his hand, sliding through flesh as subtly as a snake bite. Copper coated his tongue and nose, and he could not escape the scent of death. But the man was not the only one there. The woman sprawled across the table, her eyes accusing. His sword had impaled them both.

He picked her up and cradled her, fingers leaving red stains on her shoulders, her waist. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, looking at her ruined flesh, her ruined heart. “I’m so sorry.” Terror filled his mind as she looked up at him, her mouth moving faintly. Only then did Kenshin realize that her face had changed, her eyes had changed,blue as the sea. Skin fine and delicate as paper. Hair like a river of ink spilled over his arm as her hijab fell away.

He didn’t even see the knife until it was too late, the blade scoring a burning line in his cheek. His blood splashed across her face, mingling with her last breath. The dagger fell away and the life faded from her eyes. A scream lodged in Kenshin’s throat, tangled in his terror, his horror.

 “Kaoru…” he choked, tears dripping to mix with the carnage.

* * *

Kaoru woke to Kenshin’s thrashing, jerking away as he turned to the side. The DVD screensaver danced across the TV. Judging by the darkness of the living room, it was well past sunset. She turned her gaze on her best friend, and watched as he twitched and shifted, his brow furrowed and his fists clenched into balls. Sweat coated his skin, and had soaked through his shirt.

It took a moment for her to understand, but when she did she pressed her hand to his shoulder. “Kenshin,” she whispered, panic blooming in her chest as he only struggled more. He didn’t seem any closer to waking, so she gently began shaking him, calling his name.  Still there was no response. His muscles corded like iron under her hands, and she could feel his pulse, beating like a machine gun.

Quite suddenly, he was awake, one hand at her wrist, the other at her throat. Kaoru didn’t even know when he’d switched them, pinning her as he straddled her legs. His eyes glinted in the darkness, filled with rage and fear and panic. For a moment, she couldn’t breathe as his grip tightened, but then he deflated, recognition in his expression. Kenshin threw himself on the floor, and she found herself completely at a loss.

“I’m so sorry, Kaoru,” he whispered, eyes burning through her. “I’m so sorry. So sorry. Please forgive me.”

He continued backing away from her until he hit the coffee table, wincing as she slowly stood, her blanket falling away.

Kaoru knelt, reaching out and touching his hand.

“It’s ok, Kenshin. It was only a dream.”

“But…” he gulped, his eyes darting around the room, “I attacked you. I could’ve really hurt you.”

“You didn’t,” she said firmly, gripping his hand in hers. He looked down, bewildered and terrified. _Pull away!_ his mind hissed. _You’ve done enough damage already_. He tried to jerk his fist back, but she held on fast, and all he succeeded in was pulling her even closer.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked, and her other hand was on his face, on his cheek. _What is she doing? Doesn’t she know? Can’t she see? I’m a monster!_

When he gave no reply, Kaoru sighed and spun so that she could sit next to him, her hand still clamped on his, unyielding.

“Aoshi said things like this might happen. He said it’s better to talk about it than keep it all hidden away.”

In the silence that followed, his own harsh breathing thundered in his ears. Distantly, he was aware enough to realize he was having a panic attack, but he couldn’t seem to shake himself free. Kaoru’s hand grounded him, and he was surprised when she leaned against him, her arm pressing up against his.

“I’m one to talk,” she said after a moment. “It’s not like I ever talk about my problems or see a shrink or anything. Maybe I shouldn’t be lecturing you.”

Kenshin thought he should be asking her things. _Why would you need to talk about things? Why would you need a shrink?_ But all he could think about was her blood spilling over his arms. Her neck, slender and breakable under his hands. _She’s so vulnerable and she’s leaning on me. Leaning on a madman. A murderer. She’s…unbelievable. How can she? How can I? Is this even real?_ The room certainly didn’t feel real. Bathed in sodium light, color disappeared. The walls, the furniture, their skin, everything was painted in monochrome. The dull hum of the television filled his ears with white noise, and he could not shake the smell of blood. It surrounded him like a sulfurous cloud. _Dream. Reality. Dream. Which was it? Is she really here? Am I?_ Impulse overrode common sense, merged with panic, and he turned his head and kissed the side of her mouth. He mostly missed, and he kind of bumped his nose against hers, but the contact brought lucidity, flooded down his back like snow melt.

Kaoru gaped up at him, her jaw slack, and her eyes wide.

Kenshin took a shuddering breath and stood abruptly. “I’m sorry, Kaoru,” he said, backing away. “I…that was out of line. I just…the nightmare, and the panic and…I’m really sorry. It won’t happen again. Goodnight.”

He fled, racing down the hallway and into the guestroom, locking the door behind him. He sank against the wall, holding his head in his hands. _Smooth, Himura. Real smooth. Try fixing that hot mess._

Kaoru remained in the living room, shock coursing through her veins. Slowly, she touched her lips. _I don’t,_ she thought haltingly, _I don’t…understand. What just happened?_

She remained in the dark living room another ten minutes, gently running her fingers over her mouth and nose, half ecstatic, half terrified, completely confused. Finally, her stomach rumbled and she rose, digging out her leftover soup. _Thank God it’s Friday_ , she thought absently as she warmed her meager supper. The microwave clock glowed neon green, 10:24. _After that, I’m not gonna be able to sleep for hours._ She shuffled past Kenshin’s room, soup in hand, and disappeared into her bedroom.

From his position against the wall, he listened to her go, sighing and hanging his head. _What the hell am I doing?_

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://arukou-arukou.tumblr.com/).


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